A Lesson In Love
by Saint Bacchus
Summary: All wackiness ensues when Snape gets a raunchy Valentine from his secret admirer!
1. Bah Humbug! Oh, Wait.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other piece of JK Rowling's empire. I just write the fanfic. 

~^^~

Severus Snape wouldn't have said, if you asked him, that the second semester of this year was going to be different from any other. Then again, he had never put much stock in divination; he was interested in magic, not hocus-pocus. So when Sybil Trelawney told him at the Hogwarts staff Christmas dinner that this Valentine's Day would be a special one, he didn't pay her much mind. Then again, if he had ever listened to a word that came out of her mouth, he might have noticed the distinct difference between this prediction and her usual death-doom-destruction combo. In fact, if he paid attention to any of the women on the staff at Hogwarts, he might noticed that they were all acting a good deal girlier than he had ever seen them act before. But he didn't, and he snapped and snarled his way through January blissfully unaware of the chaos to come.... 

**A Lesson In Love**   
A fanfic challenge answered by Kocchi Highwind

_Curse this wretched holiday_, thought Severus Snape as he swooped through the halls of Hogwarts, taking off ten points here, fifteen points there, from the old and new couples that flooded through the school like a tidal wave of lovey-dovey cheer. It wasn't a good Valentine's Day unless he had racked up at least 500 points worth of deductions. Young love in particular made him ill – _little do they know_, he liked to cackle to himself, picking out the couples doomed to failure, destined to break when they got their first taste of the real world. 

Yes, he was one of the choice few who saw life for what it was: a cosmic joke, a mad jape played on those stupid enough to believe that it could be soft and kind. Stupid, stupid, cruel life…. 

_Bah humbug_, he thought as he swept into his first class of the day. 

~^^~

He had gotten to 400 points deducted from various houses (including Slytherin; _why should they be exempt?_ his inner monologue sneered) by the last class of the day, double Potions with Slytherin and Gryffindor. He figured he'd have an easy time of it, between this class and dinner, to knock off the remaining hundred points. Gryffindor was already used to him finding any excuse to take off points, and Slytherin…well, they could bloody well learn. As usual, Snape waited in his office until class had very nearly started, then swooped in, letting the door bang behind him. To his great disappointment, everyone – even Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil – were sitting silent and ready. Apparently, they'd smelled the blood in the water and were electing not to push him. Even Neville Longbottom had on his best poker face. 

For the first half of the period, everything went swimmingly. Much better than normal, actually. No one talked out of turn and no one melted his or her cauldron. Almost every single potion was a sickly greenish color, which is exactly what they were supposed to look like. Snape was beginning to get really annoyed when Neville Longbottom raised his hand. 

"What-is-it?" Snape hissed, trying to look menacing. 

"I was wondering if I couldn't have a new knife, sir," said Neville, averting his eyes slightly as one might do when looking at the sun. "This one is dull and it's not cutting my asphodel very well." Snape looked at the perfectly sliced, if raggedy-edged, plant. His lips pulled back from his clenched teeth alarmingly, but he simply nodded and got a new knife. Neville went back to work. 

Shortly thereafter, a knock resonated through the silent classroom. 

"Enter!" shouted Snape imperiously. 

George and Fred Weasley entered, sporting identical Cheshire Cat grins and each carrying a package. They handed over their packages without a word and, still grinning, moved to the back of the room. Ron, watching, had the distinct impression of soldiers scurrying away from a bomb that was about to go off. 

Severus Snape looked at the boxes in his hands. One of them was labeled "Open Me First!" and to the other was attached a greeting card with "For my favorite Potion Master. Your SA" written on the envelope. Deciding with not a little gleeful spite to open the one with the card first, he found that it was a boxful of cordial cherries. Inside was another note. 

_Dark chocolate for my dark dear. Are you as delicious as these are? –SA_

Setting down the box as though it could explode at any moment, he opened the greeting card with shaking hands. He read it, then reread it, then flushed a deep red that stood out particularly well on his pale skin. Then his reflexes kicked in and clenched his fists, squashing the card. Putting it on his desk next to the chocolate-covered cherries, he opened the second box. He didn't understand at first; he had to pull the thing out to get it. With the entire class plus Fred and George now watching, he lifted the item to eye-level…and immediately wished he hadn't. It was a pair of black silk boxer shorts. He couldn't see the words that were printed in red on the seat – that side was facing the class. 

"Spanish Fly – Not Just For Breakfast Anymore," read the back of what were clearly a pair of men's underwear. The class was stunned into silence. All, that is, except for Fred and George Weasley, who, unable to contain themselves any longer, burst out laughing. 

That broke the tension; no one, even the Slytherins, could stop themselves from howling. Neville Longbottom banged his head on his desk doubling over with laughter. 

"SILENCE!" roared Snape. "Weasley!" 

"Yes?" chorused Ron, George, and Fred, still chuckling a bit. 

"Not you," Snape snapped at Ron, "You two. You would have done well to save this bit of trickery until after you'd graduated. I'll have both your red heads for this." 

"Oh, no," said Fred (or possibly George), "It wasn't us. Wish we could take credit, but we're just the messengers." 

"Yeah," the other agreed, "Don't you know that this kind of jape requires a woman's touch?" 

Gales of laughter flooded the room again. Fred and George slipped out quickly, giving each other high-fives. 

"A woman?" Snape wondered, ignoring the class. "Could it be you?" he shouted, pointing a long, accusatory finger at Hermione Granger. 

The class quieted, waiting to hear what would happen. Hermione's eyes widened until they were roughly the size of Bambi's. 

"Me?" she squeaked, trying to sound outraged and finding that her voice had fled. 

"Of course," Snape went on, eyes flitting madly around the room, 'It all makes sense. The way you looked at me..." 

"With utter disgust?" Hermione shrieked. Her voice was back with a vengeance. 

"...trying to torment me with that ridiculous behavior..." 

"Ridiculous?" huffed Hermione. "What's ridiculous about –" 

"...getting my attention constantly…" Snape went on, not listening to her protests, "Yes, Miss Granger, I believe you're in love with me!" 

"But..." Hermione was near tears. The sound of rushing blood and laughter rang in her ears. Looking to Harry and Ron for support, she was unpleasantly surprised to find them both laughing uproariously. Hermione slapped them each across the face and ran out, no longer bothering to control the tears that fizzled on her burning cheeks. 

Snape frowned. That didn't gel. He turned to the Slytherin side of the room. "Or was it you, Parkinson? I've seen the way you toady up to Malfoy, why not head straight to the top?" 

Pansy favored him with her best scandalized look. "I only like Draco!" she declared, to fresh laughter from the Gryffindors. She blushed deeply and tried to sink into the floor. No luck. 

"No kidding!" shouted Parvati Patil. "You've all but sent out wedding invitations!" 

Snape whirled. "And what about you, Miss Boy-Crazy Patil? Thought you could handle a man?" 

Parvati's eyes popped and she started to hyperventilate. Lavender Brown bent over her concernedly. 

"No matter," said Snape dismissively. "I'll find out, mark my words. For now, know that I'm taking 50 points from each of your houses. Class is over for today." With that, he swept out of the room with as much dignity as he could muster, not bothering to take his gifts with him. The class continued to chatter excitedly. 

"Hey," said Seamus Finnegan, "what d'ya suppose that card says?" 

"Only one way to find out," said Ron with a mischievous smirk. He went to the front of the room and grabbed the card. "AHEM!" he said loudly, to get the class's attention. They quieted quickly, seeing what he was holding. He began to read: 

"_Just 'cause you haven't a Valentine yet,   
Don't think you're down on your luck   
You've grabbed this tigress by the heart,   
And she's a girl who likes to –_" 

"Whoa!" said Ron, and set the card on Snape's desk with the exact stiff movement that Snape himself had earlier. He returned to his seat looking thoroughly traumatized. Harry and Seamus were looking at him curiously; before either of them could say anything, he declared, "You _don't_ want to know." 

~^^~

Severus Snape, meanwhile, had retreated to his office to cook up a suitable response. 

* * *

_Author's notes: This is a response to a challenge, and as such, some of the major plot points (i.e. the gifts) were already determined. Mainly, I just tried to stay within the bounds of the books and the challenge while having some fun with the dour Potion Master. Warning: this chapter is much funnier than chapter 2. But if you don't read chapter 2, you won't know who the secret admirer is! *g* _

Also, if you have any feelings about the format of this story (I intentionally made it only so wide and centered on the page), please let me know. Thanks! 


	2. The Guilty Party

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other piece of JK Rowling's empire. I just write the fanfic. 

~^^~

**A Lesson In Love Chapter 2: The Guilty Party**

Snape spent the rest of the day in his office, working up a list of suspects. He started with a list of all the women at Hogwarts and drew graphs and charts, scribbling out some names and circling others. Shortly after the beginning of dinner (he wasn't feeling particularly hungry), Professor McGonagall arrived unannounced. 

"Good evening, Severus," she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. 

"Good evening, Minerva," he said reflexively. Suddenly, his head popped up over the large-scale relationships chart he had drawn. His eyes narrowed. "You're a _woman_," he said suspiciously. 

"Indeed," she replied airily, "and thank you ever so much for noticing. The rest of the staff is wondering if you were planning on coming to dinner." 

"No." He circled her name on the chart. 

"Very well," she said, arching an eyebrow. As she left, she glanced back over her shoulder. Snape was studying his charts with all the concentration of Picasso at a canvas. She grinned. 

About ten minutes later, the door opened again, and a silver serving tray rolled in. Snape squinted at it. It stopped dead an inch from his desk and sat expectantly. Snape ran to the door and peered out, but no one was in the halls. Returning to the tray, he observed that it had been set for one, with a dish and a lid to keep it hot. He whipped the lid off the plate to discover...another blasted note! 

_Come to your room and see if we can't whet your appetite.... –SA_

He considered. On the one hand, this was an absolutely horrifying turn of events. Whoever this person was, she was in his room, probably touching his things, sitting on his mattress to see if it was springy...ugh. On the other hand, at least he'd finally know who the troublemaker was. And if it did turn out to be George and Fred Weasley, he could probably make a case for justifiable homicide. Decision made, he quickly made his way to his bedroom, in the first-floor male staff quarters. 

Turning the key in the lock uselessly (it was already unlocked – clever girl had even gotten through the myriad anti-unlocking hexes he had put on the thing), he stepped inside to find...a woman's room. It had to be. This simply couldn't be his own Spartan bedroom. Small votive candles had been lit all around the room, and incense burned faintly from the windowsill. Roses of all colors were blossoming luxuriantly even while they climbed like ivy over his bedposts, end table, and dresser. A tiny object fluttered in front of his face; he snatched it out of the air and looked it over. It appeared to be a butterfly, but its body was also a rose. 

"Hello, Severus," came a female voice from the general direction of his bed. 

"I should have known it was you," he snarled, recognizing the voice as Minerva McGonagall's, "And I'll have you know that that mattress is not the _least_ bit springy!" 

"I'll drink to that!" came a huskier voice from the same direction. 

"Me too!" chorused several other, also female, voices. 

Snape blinked. Someone turned on the lights, and he realized that he was looking at the entire female staff of Hogwarts. There! On his very own bed! Madam Hooch pushed a chair underneath him as his legs buckled. 

"What on earth...?" he managed, although his lungs felt as though they had no air in them. 

"Happy Valentine's Day!" the women shouted in unison, and one of them brought out a card table. Professor Vector set a heart-shaped cake on it, and Professor Sinistra brought out plates and forks. Professor Sprout followed up by opening a cooler full of butterbeer. 

"Do have something to eat, Severus," said McGonagall. "Vivian worked all day on that cake." 

"All day my foot, Minerva. Think he's the only one who can follow recipes?" Vector chuckled, giving Snape a friendly pat on the shoulder. 

"Needless to say, the roses are yours, Cynthia?" Snape ventured, giving in to the inevitable: that this was a party, it was a party for him, and he couldn't just duck out. "They're...um, beautiful." 

Professor Sprout smiled broadly and thanked him. 

"And Minerva, the rose butterflies?" Looking around, Snape could see that there were a handful of them fluttering around the room. "Sybil, I imagine the incense and candles were your contribution." 

"They are arranged according to the ancient art of Feung Shui in order to direct the most positive energy flow on this day of love," Professor Trelawney replied. 

"I'm sure they are. Dare I even ask who came up with the gifts? Xiomara, Sophia?" 

Madam Hooch and Professor Sinistra giggled. Sinistra said, "That was us. Fred and George assured us that the look on your face was priceless." To Madam Hooch, "And he _did_ open the one marked 'Open Me First' second! Didn't I tell you?" 

"I wish we could have been there!" Hooch laughed. "Say, we didn't get your hopes up, did we?" 

Snape shot her a withering glare, which made her laugh harder. After the cake, Hooch broke out a deck of cards and Snape and the ladies played a heated game of poker. The women prattled on about all manner of things, which would normally have annoyed Snape no end. Tonight, however, he felt all right letting their chatter wash over him like the tide. 

Around midnight, the ladies, led by Professor McGonagall, cleaned up the room and, still chattering, left. Professor McGonagall was the last one out. 

"You hardly said a word all night, Severus. I hope the intrusion wasn't too great." 

"No...I've always wondered what goes on at a slumber party, and now I know. Although I will, of course, never be able to face my students again," he replied dryly. 

McGonagall smiled, amused at the thought that skinny little Severus Snape, who had been her student a million years ago, now had students of his own. 

"Goodnight, Severus. Sweet dreams." 

"Minerva – wait," he said, a little nervously. "I'm...not wrong in assuming that this was your idea?" 

She nodded. "Oh, dear," she murmured in mock anxiety, "And you've tried so very hard to make everyone detest you, too." 

"Touché. Perhaps there's a bit more Slytherin in you than you'd like to admit," he smirked. 

"Or a bit of Gryffindor in you that lends itself to this lovely simpatico we seem to have," she returned. "But now I really must go, or the girls are going to wonder just what went on here. Goodnight, dear." 

Snape closed the door behind her, a strange mix of emotions fighting nervously in the pit of his stomach. He and Minerva had always been close, really. She had never held his...previous line of work against him, and took his temperament in stride. Sure, she had been his teacher, had to be a good ten, fifteen years older, but he wasn't such a spring chicken himself and...feeling a little sicker, he asked himself the five-thousand galleon question: _Could it be love?_

After several tense, soul-searching moments, he burped. _Ah_, he thought, _love feels surprisingly like too much butterbeer_. 

And with that mystery and the whole damned day behind him at last, Severus Snape was very much ready for bed. 

* * *

_Author's notes: First, thank you all for reviewing! It makes my day. The challenge was from the Severus Snape Slytherin Society Yahoo group. Before I joined, I had never seen them (challenges, not Snape-crazy chicks!). I did try to make the font bigger, but it didn't work. I think FF.net's cascading style sheets set the font size. _

That last line gave me hell, hell I tell you! In fact, it gave me so much hell that the original ending finished a ways after this point. I decided to cut it back to here because it got a trifle sappy after this scene. The extra scene involves Hermione and more McGonagall. If anybody wants to read it, I'll post it -- but this is the "real" end of the story. 


	3. Deleted Scene: But What About Hermione?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other piece of JK Rowling's empire. I just write the fanfic. 

Author's notes: The real story ended when Snape closed the door. This piece picks right up at that point, because it was originally part of the story. It's too serious for what I was going for, but it does resolve what happened with poor Hermione. Basically, I figured this piece was good enough to let people see, but not good enough to be in the final cut. ^_^ 

* * *

**Deleted Scene: But What About Hermione?**

After locking the door securely, Snape turned to his bed and started to unbutton his collar. Something was shining on the bed...moving closer, he realized it was Minerva's house crest pin. She never went anywhere without it tucked away somewhere on her robes. Surely she'd be wanting it back. Sighing, he unlocked the door and headed out to the female faculty quarters in the western wing of the school. 

~^^~

Minerva McGonagall had just let her hair down for the night when she realized that she had lost her favorite pin. _Must have left it with Severus_, she thought – a bit vaguely, as it was quite a bit past her bedtime – and, not bothering to relock her door, she set off towards the eastern wing of the school. 

~^^~

He had just about gotten to the bottom of Gryffindor tower when he spotted Hermione Granger – of all people – sitting on the cold stone floor and poking her wand at...what were those, photographs? More out of habit than anything else, Snape slid silently closer until he was towering above her, then spoke. 

"Miss Granger, whatever are we doing out of bed at this hour?" 

Hermione jumped about a foot in the air. When she landed, she scrambled to hide the pictures. There were way too many to hide, though, and Snape plucked one from her hand. It was a picture of Ron and Harry playing chess. She'd apparently burned the faces out with the end of her wand. Under normal circumstances, Snape would have laughed, or at least smiled appreciatively. This was, however, far from a normal night. 

"Miss Granger," he sighed, handing her the picture, which she hastily stuffed into her robes, "What you must understand about friendship is this: your friends may do stupid, ridiculous, embarrassing things to you. They may tease and torment you. You may not like it, but only your true friends care enough to bother you when you need to be bothered. Do you understand? Don't take yourself so seriously." 

_Don't take myself so seriously? Who is he kidding?_ wailed Hermione's mind. This was too much. Absolutely too much. Arching an eyebrow as she must have seen McGonagall do a hundred times in class, she said, "Does this mean the wedding's off?" 

Snape nodded resignedly. Yes, he'd deserved that. No, he wasn't going to let her get away with it. "I'll add that to the running total of point deductions you've earned for this little late-night excursion. Now get to bed before I decide to start counting by the minutes you've been out of the dorms." 

She hesitated a moment, then muttered, "Thank you, sir," and scampered back to Gryffindor Tower without a look back. 

Snape turned to resume his journey to find Minerva standing there. She must have heard all of it, and she'd know in a heartbeat that he was talking about her. The embarrassment! 

"I – I was just –" he stammered. 

"Coming to return my pin, I hope," she said, holding out her hand. He dropped it into her palm. 

"Thank you," he said, hoping she would understand. This was what he had been unable to say after the party. She simply nodded and left as silently as she had come. Snape had the strangest feeling of being back in school and having to decode a mischievous teacher's cryptic lesson. _A lesson in...love? Perhaps. But not the kind on which Valentine's Day thrives._


End file.
